Letter from a Stranger (30 page)

“That’s great, and I can’t wait to meet them, and especially Richard.” He lowered his voice. “I miss you. I wish you were here. I thought of bringing you with me, but I didn’t want to take you away from Gabri. Still, I can’t help wishing I had.”

“I’d love to be there, and I felt the same way as you, especially about Gran.”

“Oh come on, fly to London instead! Be with me here.
Please.
”

“Don’t tempt me, Michael. Listen, you know I want to, but my grandmother said she’d talk to me tomorrow about saving Anita’s life.… I think I’d better stay here. I need to know about her past.”

“I guess you’re right, but I sure as hell miss you, babe.”

“I miss you too.”

*   *   *

Gabriele’s face broke into smiles when she saw Justine hurrying toward her, and she called out, “What a sight for sore eyes
you
are.”

A moment later Justine was enfolding her grandmother in her arms, holding her tightly. “I love you so much. I’m still pinching myself that I found you. A stroke of luck.”

“I know what you mean.” Linking her arm through Justine’s, Gabriele continued, “I’d love a cup of tea, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, I would. I’ll go and make it, and then you can tell me how your meeting went.”

“Ayce will attend to it, Justine. I’m afraid she gets a bit miffy if anyone starts fiddling around in her kitchen, and Suna’s the same.”

“Michael sends his love, and he says he’s on schedule.”

“So you’ve spoken to him, have you?”

“Yes, he called about half an hour before you got back.”

Justine smiled at her grandmother, and squeezed her arm. “You two are very different, and yet I understand why you get on so well.… You’re both so loving and compassionate, and in tune.”

“Why thank you, lovey, what a nice thing to say.”

Justine followed her grandmother into the front hall and asked, “Shall I go and look for Ayce or Suna? Ask for tea?”

“That would be nice, and you might also ask her if she has some Cadbury’s chocolate fingers, please, Justine.”

“Be right back, Gran.”

Gabriele stood in the doorway of the living room, watching her go, loving her so much, gratified and relieved that this young woman had been so persistent and determined to find her. Gabriele went along with the idea that it was a fluke, a lucky accident that Justine had done so, but inside she believed it was part of a greater plan. There were those who would disagree, who thought everything that happened in life was random, just chance, and nothing more than that.

Seating herself on the sofa, Gabriele leaned back, glad to be in this beautiful old room, surrounded by many of the things she loved. The windows faced the sea, and now, as the light was changing, the sun moved slowly toward the far horizon. The room took on a hazy golden glow, just as Anita’s did at this hour.

Closing her eyes, she relaxed, and opened her mind to a certain memory, as she often did at this particular hour of the day, and she heard it clearly, the music, the violin … echoing in her head.

Feeling the tears gathering behind her eyelids, she sat up with a jerk, blinked, and flicked her fingertips across her eyes. No need for tears, she told herself, and smiled brightly at her granddaughter as she came back, so coltish and lithe.

“English breakfast tea with lemon, chocolate fingers, and ginger biscuits,” Justine announced, sitting down opposite Gabriele. “So Gran, tell me what happened at the meeting? Are they going to buy lots of your latest fabric?”

Gabriele nodded, her blue eyes lighting up. “The whole line, Justine. The new company is taking every design, and in various fabrics—cotton, linen, and pure silk. And what’s more, they’ll distribute them across America. They seem to be crazy about me, or rather, about the fabrics.”

Her grandmother sounded so surprised, Justine stared at her in puzzlement for a moment. “Why wouldn’t they? The tulip patterns are sensational. Congratulations, Gran, you deserve your success.” Then, leaning forward, she announced, “I’ve got a surprise for you. I spoke to Richard. He’ll be winging his way to us in a week … next Tuesday, to be exact.”

“Oh how marvelous! I can’t wait to see him, and little Daisy. Who would ever have thought that I would live long enough to see a great-grandchild of mine?”

“It’s going to be very special for you, I know. And listen, Joanne is coming with him and bringing her boy, Simon, who’s Daisy’s age.”

“It’ll be old home week … all of us together again like we used to be at Indian Ridge. I was always fond of Jo.” Gabriele’s face was radiant as she spoke.

“I’ve another bit of news,” Justine said. “The two of them, I mean Richard and Jo, have hooked up with each other at last. She’s been in love with him since we were kids growing up together, and very frankly I never thought it would happen. But it has.”

“Qué será será,”
Gabriele murmured, using her favorite saying. “What will be will be.” She glanced at the door as it opened. Ayce came in pushing the tea trolley, and Gabriele welcomed her warmly.

Thirty-two

Once they had finished tea, which had been a bit more elaborate than Gabriele had anticipated, she sat studying Justine for a moment or two.

Her granddaughter suddenly became aware of this fixed scrutiny, and said, “Gran, you’re staring at me. Do I have a dirty mark on my face?”

“No, darling, you don’t. I was just admiring you, thinking how beautiful you look.”

Justine smiled, her face lighting up. “And you do too, so smart in your black suit and white shirt. Just like a high-powered executive.”

Gabriele shook her head. “Just an artist, that’s all.” There was a pause, and then she said, “I want to talk to you about something, Justine, but before I do, I must ask you a question. When is Iffet coming to see you tomorrow?”

“In the afternoon. But a time hasn’t been set yet.”

“I think you should cancel the meeting.”

“Why?” Justine asked, sitting up straighter. She couldn’t understand what this was about. “Is there something wrong?”

“No, no, not as far as Iffet’s concerned.” Gabriele paused, took a deep breath, continued, “I promised to explain a little about saving Anita’s life, and I will attempt to do that tomorrow. But I can’t actually tell you much about my early life, my past—”

“Oh no!” Justine exclaimed, cutting across Gabriele. “I want to know everything.” Dismay flooded her.

“Let me explain further,” Gabriele responded. “When I was a girl, a teenager approaching young womanhood, I had a difficult life. It was not a happy existence. As I grew older, and my circumstances started to change, I began to bury the past, pushing it deep down inside me. In fact, I buried it so deep I cannot dredge it up. Ever. I obliterated it from my heart and mind, and I have never been able to speak about it. However, I think you have a right to know something about my early life, what I was, who I am.”

“Thank you for that, Gran, and I’m so glad you will talk to me, that you’ve chosen me to hear your story.”

“Oh, but I’m not going to
tell
you anything, Justine.”

“But you said you wanted me to know.”

“I do, and you shall. I have never discussed those years with anyone. No one on this earth knows my story, and—”

“Not Anita?” Justine interrupted.

“Not even her. She knows about my childhood; after all, we grew up together, and I saved her life when we were teenagers. A short while later we became separated by circumstances. We didn’t meet again for a few years, and she had no knowledge of my life during that time nor I of hers. I did confide one thing when we finally met again, and she knew about those people who’d been kind to me, but that’s all.”

“You weren’t able to tell Uncle Trent either?” Justine ventured.

“No.” Gabriele settled back against the pillows on the sofa, staring into the distance for a moment. A sadness settled over her.

Finally, she spoke. “Ten years ago, when your mother and I quarreled, I came back to Istanbul once she had returned to the States. As you now know, she created the estrangement between us, told me to stay away from her and her children—you and Richard. She kicked me out of the family, in effect. As you can imagine, I was stunned. Brokenhearted. I came to Istanbul because I knew I was safe here. I had my
yali,
and I knew I was loved and respected by my friends. I had Anita, and Michael was loving and caring when he was here.”

“I’m happy he was, Gran, that comforts me.”

“He’s a good man. To continue. Slowly, over the last ten years, I began to pull up bits and pieces of my past, fragments of my life, and I wrote them down. Certain parts were buried far too deep, I could not dredge them to the surface of my mind. And so they remain unwritten. But there are enough of those fragments for you to form a picture of my early years. It took me a long time to write this … well, I was going to call it a memoir, but it’s not that. Rather, it’s scenes, bits and pieces, fragments of a life. Do you understand, darling?”

“Yes, I do. It’s like a notebook? Is that what you mean?”

“That’s what it is, I suppose. I shall give it to you before we leave for Bodrum tomorrow.”

“Is that why you want me to cancel my meeting with Iffet? So I can read it?”

“Yes.” Gabriele hesitated for a split second before adding in a low, concerned voice, “I think you might find some things …
difficult
. Knowing you the way I do, you’ll want to be alone. And you’ll want to digest everything.”

“I understand,” Justine said, and she did. “I’ll call Iffet later.”

“Don’t read it all at once,” Gabriele murmured. “Take it slowly. I put the name of the place and the year of each fragment, each memory. So you’ll know where I was and when.”

“If I need to speak to you, can I? Can I call you in Bodrum?”

“Yes, on my mobile.”

“Are you going to allow Richard to read it?”

“Yes, of course.
He must
. He has to know about my early life.”

“Can I tell him about the notebook?”

“I think I’d prefer him to read it for himself. Better he doesn’t know about it beforehand. I want him to understand it properly, to digest it. So don’t say anything to him, please, Justine.”

“I won’t. What about Michael?”

Gabriele thought about this for a moment or two.

“You can talk to Michael if you feel you must. A few things he does know from Anita.”

“He said he didn’t know anything,” Justine replied, frowning.

“That’s absolutely true. He has no information about my early life, except in relation to his grandmother. You’ll understand why he knows certain things as soon as you’ve read the first few pages.”

“Is this notebook going to upset me, Gran?” Justine asked slowly, suddenly feeling nervous inside, and anxious.

Gabriele did not answer.

Justine gave her a penetrating stare, and her heart clenched. For a fleeting moment she saw the pain in Gabriele’s eyes, and knew the answer to her question.

Thirty-three

The following afternoon, once Gabriele was ready to leave for Bodrum, she went to the safe at the back of the walk-in closet in her bedroom, and took out the large black notebook.

She had kept it locked up for years, and only removed it when she had wanted to add to it. Now for the first time it was going to be read. By her granddaughter. For a moment Gabri hesitated at the safe, suddenly tempted to put the book back inside. No, she thought. I want Justine to know the truth about my life. Decisively, she closed the safe and locked it.

A few moments later she picked up her handbag and went downstairs to find her granddaughter. Justine was not inside the
yali,
and when Gabriele went out into the gardens, she caught a glimpse of her walking down toward the garden seat in front of the Bosphorus.

Gabriele smiled to herself. The seat had become a favorite spot. It was there that Justine and Michael had admitted their overwhelming attraction for each other, and, of course, it was now symbolic to them both.

A couple of seconds later, Gabriele was joining her on the garden seat, explaining, “Well, darling, I’m about to go to the airport with Anita, and I just want to give you this.” As she spoke she handed Justine a small Fortnum & Mason shopping bag. “In here is my book of notes, those fragments I told you about yesterday after tea.”

Taking the shopping bag from her, Justine nodded. “Thank you, I can’t wait to read it, Gran. I’ll start this afternoon. And by the way, Iffet didn’t mind about changing our date. In fact, it was good for her, she has clients in town and she usually looks after them when they’re here.”

“I’m happy it worked out. Now you have plenty of time to read, to digest everything.” Reaching out, Gabriele took Justine’s hand in hers. “I intended to leave the book to you and Richard in my will. You see, to be honest, I never thought I would see either of you again in my lifetime. Not in my wildest dreams. But you found me. And I’m still alive and kicking, so I decided you should have it now. Richard can read it when he arrives next week.”

“I’ll keep it safe, Gran, and I do understand it’s for my eyes only … until Rich gets here.”

“And remember, it was written over the last ten years, and to the best of my memory.”

*   *   *

Later, after Gabriele and Anita had left, Justine took the Fortnum’s shopping bag to her bedroom, sat down in a chair, and placed the black leather-bound book on the small coffee table.

She sat staring at it for the longest time, wanting to pick it up, to open it, and yet, in a strange way, she was afraid to do so. She was not sure what she was going to find among those leaves.

After taking a deep breath, she finally reached for it, stared at the first page. The title was there.

Fragments of a Life,
it said, and underneath was the name of the author.
Gabriele,
and that was all, no last name. Justine turned the page, and read the words at the top. On the left was the dateline
BERLIN,
and on the other side it said
NOVEMBER 16, 1938.

Justine frowned as she stared at the name of the city. “Berlin” had jumped out at her. What was her grandmother doing in Berlin in 1938? She was genuinely puzzled.